


heart full of you

by wistfullywishing



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), YHNEXT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfullywishing/pseuds/wistfullywishing
Summary: their very first time filming on idol producer went a little bit like this:during the first break segment of auditions, justin quietly pointed out that the oaca trainees sitting in the row above them were all wearing matching white shirts with a red lip print by the collar.“i can help you with that,” chengcheng remembers offering, shooting a flirtatious smile at justin and feeling confident when justin’s eyes narrowed. from justin’s other side, zhengting had leaned forward and said, “i don’t want to press my lips on your shirt, i want to press them to your face,” and then they both cackled obnoxiously when justin hid his face in his hands out of embarrassment.





	heart full of you

from the moment justin announces, “i wiped all my sweat on chengcheng,” with a dumb nervous laugh during the first ranking reveals, fan chengcheng knows it’s all over. he can still feel the ghost traces of touch on his thigh where justin’s hand was minutes ago as he sits on the bleachers before the numbered chairs on the stage, wondering if he will always feel like justin is skies above him. younger and yet more experienced in this industry, more outgoing and charismatic. seemingly unattainable. 

the two of them are just a tad bit different. there’s justin, who chengcheng knows deserves to sit on the seats closest to the large nine at the top center of the pyramid because of his skill. and then there’s chengcheng, who has always been accused of getting this far because of his family and name. 

  
  


their very first time filming on idol producer went a little bit like this: 

during the first break segment of auditions, justin quietly pointed out that the oaca trainees sitting in the row above them were all wearing matching white shirts with a red lip print by the collar. 

“i can help you with that,” chengcheng remembers offering, shooting a flirtatious smile at justin and feeling confident when justin’s eyes narrowed. from justin’s other side, zhengting had leaned forward and said, “i don’t want to press my lips on your shirt, i want to press them to your face,” and then they both cackled obnoxiously when justin hid his face in his hands out of embarrassment. 

during yuehua’s audition, justin blew away the judges and immediately captured the nation’s heart, stealing the spot of top pick for more than enough citizen producers across all of china. and chengcheng? he forgot his lyrics on live broadcast. 

  
  


for fan chengcheng, it got worse before it got better. 

  
  
  
  


that said, it doesn’t really get better for chengcheng until position evaluations. 

it’s funny, because when chengcheng walks into the room where the trainees are supposed to line up after selecting position evaluation songs, he knows immediately that something isn’t right. 

xukun and linong are both standing in the rap section, under the placard that reads <<very good>> and chengcheng’s first thought is,  _ oh no.  _

“what did you choose?” linong asks eagerly, peeking out from behind xukun. his hands are tucked behind his back, tightly clutching his own song choice.

“don’t tell me it’s…?” xukun asks at the same time, hand reaching up to cover his mouth, a nervous habit chengcheng has learned to recognize.

and chengcheng’s expression is still one of shock, jaw dropped wide open, as he raises his card to show them the words <<very good>> printed on his card in white lettering.

the earth absolutely  _ shatters.  _ xukun and linong are practically on the floor, draped over one another in their laughter. “nooooo way,” linong breathes, eyes crinkling up, straight teeth on display. “one, two, three?!” 

chengcheng’s brain hasn’t even stopped processing what he’s going to do with two of the most popular trainees competing against him, the top three trainees in the same group. he’s still not completely sure his rank isn’t a fluke or beginner’s luck. how can they be laughing about this? beside him, xukun’s eyes are sparkling with disbelief and incredulity and something else, something that looks an awful lot like--

_ mischief _ .

“wait a second,” chengcheng says sternly, pulling himself back together, losing some of his original panic. “wait, this doesn’t seem quite right…” and he’s trying not to smile, because he thinks he gets it.

“this seems like too much of a coincidence, doesn’t it?” says xukun, still messing around, reaching out a hand for chengcheng to help him up. 

“wait a minute,” chengcheng repeats, inwardly sighing with relief at what he’s sure has got to be a joke. “don’t talk to me.” he snickers, sidestepping the twist of bodies on the floor and pointing accusingly at linong. “why in the world would you be here?”

linong is actively trying not to lose it now as he continues to pretend. “this is so awkward!”

“what are we supposed to do?” xukun cries innocently, before finally dropping the act, pulling out his real card, and showing it to chengcheng. “jokes aside, though. i chose this song.” 

and chengcheng is left staring in shock again, looking at xukun’s card that reads <<what i miss>>. 

because what the  _ fuck _ , because xukun is not a vocalist, because there is something going on that chengcheng must have missed the memo about. and he looks to linong to see if he’s just as lost, only linong is trying very hard not to laugh as he brandishes a card that reads <<papillon>> and suddenly everything makes sense.

“god, i knew you were going to choose papillon,” chengcheng whines, pointing at xukun, pausing at linong’s, “no,  _ i’m _ papillon.”

“shut up, you guys got it wrong, switch them back now, quickly,” chengcheng mutters, glaring at them both for playing with his emotions. he’s done for the day. 

except apparently not, because when justin enters the room after selecting his song, xukun, linong, and chengcheng are all standing in line under the placard that reads <<papillon>>. 

“actors,” justin laughs immediately, pointing at them. “you guys are totally acting, all three of you standing there.”

  
  


on the night of position evaluation performances, when xinchun finishes performing with <<loving you>> group, both chengcheng and justin watch on the little television backstage as he declares his love to fans, complete with a finger heart. justin is out of his seat before anyone else can react, startling the trainees next to him with his screaming. “i love you, huang xinchun!”

before the words are even fully out of justin’s mouth, chengcheng is joining in, busting out of his seat to yell in solidarity. from the other side of the room, zeren is also partaking in supporting their fellow yuehua brother. “i love you!” 

they look like damn fools trying to out-yell each other, chengcheng knows they do, especially justin, who’s jumping up and down and making hearts with his hands. but just this once, chengcheng finds that he can’t quite bring himself to care about what anyone else thinks. not when they’re in this together. 

but that only lasts for another few seconds before eventually reality kicks in. chengcheng’s voice cracks in the middle of screaming “huang xinchun!” and him and justin come to a mutual agreement. they both sit back down like nothing ever happened to preserve their images, glancing at each other and trying not to laugh.

two minutes later, yixing sends his own love message to the fans and the crowd goes wild. justin makes a wiping motion with his hand and announces to the room, “huang xinchun, i don’t want you anymore! i want zhang pd!” 

and chengcheng realizes, sweaty-handed and sore, that he wants justin to want him the most. he hopes that justin could never replace him as easily as he pretends to discard xinchun. even though the whole thing is a joke. 

  
  


the <<very good>> and <<papillon>> groups are waiting backstage while <<artist>> is performing, and chengcheng manages to weasle bu fan into letting him try on his massive mink coat. 

he is so very pleased, he thinks he looks quite handsome. unable to help himself, he goes to show justin, who’s mumbling lyrics to himself. another nervous habit that chengcheng is well aware of and painfully familiar with after years of training together. 

gathering his attention with a wave, chengcheng cheers, “hey hey justin! look at me!”

without missing a single beat, justin snorts and says, “you look like an old grandma.”

  
  


chengcheng ends up getting his revenge. a week or two later, the trainees are grabbing for red packets as part of a game challenge, and the staff jiejie on duty announces that justin spun nineteen times, way more than the required fifteen times. justin’s eyes light up in awe, because he spun so fast and still managed to complete the challenge, and chengcheng almost wants to stop living when justin goes “whoaaaa!” and throws his hands up in victory like the dumb kid he is. 

justin is so dumb. chengcheng wants to kiss him. 

“make him forfeit his red packets!” chengcheng screeches instead during everyone’s applause of justin, shoving his friend for good measure. “he went over the limit! who told him to spin so many times, no one told him to spin nineteen whole times!”

justin shoves him back, of course, but his betrayed, indignant expression is what keeps chengcheng going for the rest of the day. 

  
  


during one of <<dream>> team’s practice breaks, xukun is showing them how to play bottle cap games. chengcheng asks, “justin, are you wiping the floor?” as justin is scooting across the wood on his hands and butt, and when justin ignores him, chengcheng swears up and down and inside out that his heart doesn’t do a weird sort of clench that’s unfamiliar yet unpleasant.

“i think we have to change the game,” justin says to xukun. “this one’s kind of boring. should we throw bottle caps instead?”

“hmm?” xukun says. “okay, okay. let’s do it.”

and so they’re trying to toss bottle caps into a cardboard box a few meters away, and justin pauses when his throw misses yet again. “ah, this is kind of hard,” he tells chengcheng, addressing him directly for the first time. “try it yourself, it really is hard.”

chengcheng says, standing up with  _ flair _ , “how hard can it be? i’ll show you how.”

justin bites, like he always does when they banter. “come here, no stand  _ here _ , okay go ahead. can you make it in one shot?”

“you have no trust in anything,” mutters chengcheng. he tosses and misses by an even wider margin than justin. it doesn’t stop him from throwing his hands up as if in victory. 

“wow, you’re so good!” justin exclaims, sarcastic. chengcheng suddenly doesn’t have ears. 

“can you help me photoshop it in?” he says to the cameraman sweetly, smiling. xukun is standing somewhere behind them, echoing “whaat!” in english.

when it’s justin’s turn to toss again, he lands the plastic bottle cap in the box, even though xingjie had tried to throw him off by kicking out a foot at the last second to block him. justin screams in excitement and runs around the practice room, yelling “crazy!” over and over. he does a spectacular leap in the air, like some gymnast or something, and xingjie laughs at chengcheng’s sullen expression. 

it’s xukun who steps up to the plate next, warning chengcheng who’s squatting behind the goal, “don’t interfere, chengcheng, don’t.” 

chengcheng doesn’t move a single muscle. the light piece of plastic misses anyway. 

xukun exclaims loudly with a laugh, slipping into a different dialect, “why didn’t you interfere, chengcheng, you should’ve interfered!”

afterwards, justin starts directing the others with advice, and xukun actually snorts. “justin! you accidentally made it in literally  _ once, _ why are you out here giving advice.”

but justin’s shouting back, “i can make it in again! do you need me to show you how a true champion does it?” and when he aims next, the cap sails in a pretty arc that falls short and misses the goal. 

  
  


but of course, all good things must come to an end, and this precarious balance the trainees have struck between work and play comes head to head with the mid-training eliminations. 

it’s such a cruel thing, to send trainees home while they’re in the middle of preparing a group performance. the process is sad for both those who leave, who will never be able to dance the choreographies they’ve spent day and night grueling over, and for those who stay, who have to pick up the pieces of their incomplete show and try and fill in the gaps. 

  
  
  
  


after eliminations, <<dream>> team is down to seven members from the original twelve, and it feels different. to absolutely no one’s surprise, almost all twelve of them have made it past eliminations and to the top thirty-five, but that came with it other repercussions. meaning: xukun’s been shuffled over to <<listen to what i say>> and more than any other member, everyone feels the loss of their unofficial leader with acute clarity.

they’re all sitting in the corner of the practice room, resting with the track playing in the background, when justin stands up out of nowhere and starts dancing to the chorus. 

but like. dancing badly. as bad as justin could possibly dance, anyway. his movements are exaggerated and uncontrolled, and his bleached hair flops around in the air and in front of his eyes, messy and unstyled.

“i’m going to do a huba xingjie cute version,” justin tells the room, gesturing like he’s on a variety show. “i’m going to imitate jie-ge,” and that’s all the warning they get before justin is projecting his voice, making it fifty times raspier, screaming into an imaginary microphone in his fist. “brothers! i am huba!” he jumps up and spins around for good measure. “i am huba! i love --  _ dance to the music _ !” justin crows, copying the choreography from xingjie’s performance earlier in the show. 

chengcheng feels, more than sees, the atmosphere change when the permanent uneasy smile that xingjie wears ever since eliminations drops from his face, replaced by a look of murder. 

“ah, what?” xingjie taunts five seconds later in justin’s face, having gotten zhengting to help hold him down on the floor. he tickles justin a little harder every time he shrieks “huba!” again. 

“hubahubahuba!”

so yeah. it’s a mess. 

chengcheng watches on with poorly concealed amusement as xingjie holds justin’s head up where the filming crew has a good angle, knowing they’ll be broadcasting all the chaos to their viewers at the end of the week. “repeat after me,” xingjie directs, “justin is a yellow turnip!”

“justin is a yellow turnip!” justin yells pitifully, locked in xingjie’s embrace. 

“louder! a yellow turnip!”

“yellow turnip!” justin screams as loud as he can, voice purposely hoarse and cracking. xingjie smirks and fondly pats his cheek. and it’s good to know that despite the ever-dwindling number of contestants that remain on the show week by week, there are still some things that will never really change.

(and later, after zhenghao and justin have both pinched xingjie’s cheeks and gotten properly punished for not respecting their elders, as chengcheng hears the two yelling “xingjie-ge! i was wrong!” in unison, sees xingjie letting go of their cheeks in triumph and saying to the camera, “thank you, citizen producers,” chengcheng knows that there’s no one else who can bring up a mood quite like justin.)

  
  
  
  


but even the nation’s little brother has his limits. 

  
  


justin does not often let himself seem sad when there are cameras out, so chengcheng knows it must be really bad this time for him to not care about appearances.

he’s sitting by himself at the edge of the room, lost in thoughts and demons. sometimes, when chengcheng’s tired, he feels it too. that same hopelessness -- the fear of never being enough. the pressures of comparison, the mild jealousy that justin wowed yixing during auditions and was placed in ‘a’ class. the inadequacy because he himself stumbled over lyrics on his first stage, lyrics that he’d spent years ingraining into his brain, and remained in ‘d’ class even after re-evaluations. 

it’s kind of selfish, but a small part of him doesn’t even want to think about the stress that justin must be feeling right about now as the youngest remaining trainee on the show. he’s overwhelmed enough as it is. 

but justin deserves to debut without a doubt. every citizen producer and their mother knows this. 

(can the same be said for chengcheng?)

lost somewhere in the back of his mind, underneath all the white noise, there’s memories of the countless hours of practice, the sweat and pain and tears and injuries, and chengcheng feels somewhat more justified.

(self-confidence isn’t something to be gained overnight, but everyday -- chengcheng is getting closer to the sweet taste of self-acceptance.)

and so when the music is played again and justin looks up blearily as the notes of the lead-in to the chorus blast through the room’s speakers, chengcheng dances. 

badly. smiling so wide it hurts, acting cute on purpose. but then justin stands up and yells, “greasy!” in the background, and when their eyes meet in the mirror chengcheng thinks he would do it all over again if it meant he could be by justin’s side. 

  
  


as they’re moving into the home stretch, if there’s anything that chengcheng is thankful for, it’s that yuehua’s leader watches after them through everything. 

zhengting drags his body around the room by his arms, trying to pull him up. chengcheng’s been laying on the floor for longer than break was supposed to be. “i used to be able to pick him up,” zhengting complains to the filming crew.

“you really gained weight,” he tells chengcheng, huffing. chengcheng lets himself go limp in zhengting’s arms, resisting, until zhengting gives up and they both fall down, collapsing on the floor in a fit of giggles. 

  
  


and so, chengcheng imagines as he’s getting ready for bed the night before their final performances, he will debut one way or another. it will be tomorrow, or it will be months from now. but either way, he knows justin and the rest of his family will be there, and that’s all he can really ask of fate, isn’t it?

  
  
  
  


they’re filming a behind the scenes clip, something about friend portraits, and chengcheng has long lost track of how many times in the past hour he’s wanted to hit justin. 

exhibit a: 

chengcheng is working diligently on his own drawing when a hand comes under his chin, yanking his head up. “lift your head up,” justin commands, a smug grin on his face. chengcheng glares at him for all of two seconds, then resumes working with his head down as soon as justin lets go. 

“sometimes i really want to kill him,” he tells the staff member filming their exchange, calmer than his words suggest. this is an everyday occurrence. 

a while later, the staff jiejie begins asking questions at them. chengcheng knew this was coming, he really did, but he pretends to be caught off guard, shushing the jiejie with his finger pressed to his lips. art requires silence, after all. who ever said he wasn’t good at variety?

“you can ask me,” justin tells the jiejie, being contrary just to be contrary. “my iq is high enough to be able to multitask.”

“which female star cannot endorse a rice cooker?” 

chengcheng takes great pride in the fact that justin hasn’t even finished processing the question before he’s chiming in, “fan bingbing.”

a moment later, justin gets it. “ah, because the food will be cold.” chengcheng knows he hates puns.

“who in idol producer fills their bowl with food everyday?”

“fan chengcheng,” says chengcheng, monotone, still coloring away. then he lifts his head and smirks at the camera. of course chengcheng would know his own jokes. 

“jiejie, i don’t think your jokes are working,” justin says. “you’re a little strange.” he doesn’t even wait for them to react before plowing on with the punchline. “strangely beautiful.” 

it’s so bad, so so cringeworthy, that chengcheng has to stop working just to shoot justin’s side profile a look of exaggerated disgust.

exhibit b: 

“show me your face!” justin challenges from chengcheng’s side, using a special voice for comedic effect before turning to the producers. “gege, can you give me a photo of chengcheng to put here? chengcheng’s looks change too much. i don’t even know what he looks like right now. seriously, i can’t draw this anymore.” 

chengcheng raises his head just once throughout the exchange to check out justin’s work, and they’re both unable to stop themselves from letting out quiet chuckles when chengcheng sees what justin’s depiction of him looks like.

“i wanna smack him so badly,” chengcheng complains, shaking his head, but he’s smiling.

exhibit c: 

they finally finish their portraits, holding them up to each other for comparison. “mine’s better, right?” chengcheng asks.

“no, look at this,” justin says, angling chengcheng’s chin to the side. “spot on, yeah?”

“no, no, here,” chengcheng turns, holding his drawing up to justin’s face. “look at these lips, it looks like him doesn’t it!” justin plays along, pouting his mouth, and chengcheng lies to himself that he didn’t spend every single day since they both entered the same company thinking about kissing those lips. “i purposely drew them a bit thicker.”

maybe it’s himself that he wants to hit this time.

“my face is so pointy! why did he draw me into a square?” justin asks the filming crew, indignant, and that’s the final straw for chengcheng. he can’t hold back his laughter.

“it’s a cute style, okay,” he attempts to placate between giggles. “the hair does look pretty accurate,” he finally admits about justin’s drawing, and then they’re both breaking into wild laughter this time, gasping for breath, flailing their limbs in an effort to stay upright in their chairs. the staff are beyond confused, but they’re justin and chengcheng. this is how they mesh. 

  
  
  
  


_ the harder you work, the luckier you are. _

  
  
  
  


“justin, if all of the yuehua members fell into the sea, which one would you choose to save?”

chengcheng tries to pretend he’s not listening, because silly questions like that don’t matter, but there’s still a tiny bit of disappointment lingering there in his chest when justin says, “can i choose not to save a single one of them?”

“because,” he continues before the jiejie can ask why. “i’d swim away by myself and get a lifeguard who would be able to save all of them.” justin preens, satisfied with seeming like the youngest, smartest, best group member. 

but then his eyes flick over subtly to meet chengcheng’s steady gaze, and chengcheng’s heart soars as he understands. the criticism on the tip of his tongue shrivels up and dies. 

justin grins. 


End file.
